Flash Bygones
by Unkillable Cockroach
Summary: A series of funny oneshots, involving the Flash, the League, but mainly, the Flash. Because, really, the speedster needs a little more lovin'.
1. Road Rage

-1**Flash Bygones **

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**Disclaimer: I don't own the Justice League, unfortunately. Otherwise, the Flash would be the star of every episode. **

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**Soz for starting another fic, by the way. God damned plot bunnies haunting my dreams. **

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**Road Rage**

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John wondered briefly how in the name of Oa he had gotten himself into this situation before continuing to clutch on for dear life.

It wasn't like he was a bad person or anything. Hell, he thought he had accomplished quite a range of good deeds in his lifetime so far, after all he wasn't a superhero and the Green Lantern for nothing. He had helped save the world countless times. Just last week, he had prevented a giant Japanese robot from crushing a modest city in Osaka. Surely that amounted to something.

John Stewart was a simple kind of guy, preferring the basic black coffee with three sugars rather then-he shuddered instinctively- the cursed _iced mocha. _Overall, John honestly didn't think that he was too bad a person. At least, not bad enough to deserve this definite _cruel and unusual _punishment. No. That was wrong. What Batman did to his villains was _cruel and unusual. This_ was on a completely new level.

Perhaps John had been a deranged mass-murderer in his previous life. That might explain it.

The day had started off innocently enough. John had woken up at precisely 6.15am, and spent exactly fifteen minutes on his morning routine- ten minute jog, quick brush of teeth and the washing of face, trim of facial hair (he didn't like the way his stubble itched his chin, nor the ragged look it gave him. The Flash had called it _roguish charm_, and had attempted to grow his own beard. That had been a traumatic week for the entire League, and John wasn't willing to recall _those _particular memories.)

Then, the Lantern partook in a brief League meeting in which members were assigned to their respective monitor duties at varying times throughout the week. He had held a civil conversation with Martian Manhunter, discussing the workings of democracy and cultural relativism in regards to spreading the views of the Justice League to third world countries.

Then, the trouble started.

Wonder Woman had called him and the Flash over in order to give them a relatively simple mission. In fact, it was so simple that John had politely inquired why two Founders were necessary in its completion, in which her prompt reply was that the Flash's speed would be useful in handling such a situation. After patiently withstanding said speedster's preening at the praise, she had added that any other complaints would be forwarded to the Batman. John had wisely kept his mouth shut at that.

The details of the mission involved investigating and busting open a suspected drug smuggling in the darker corners of Metropolis. The culprits have been slippery thus far, and have evaded capture and incriminating evidence.

Hence, it was up to the Flash and the Green Lantern to find such incriminating evidence, and then bring justice into the courts. In speedster terms, as Flash had so lovingly deemed it, "find the baddies' stash, clap 'em in irons and cart them to jail."

John wouldn't have put it _exactly _like that, but yes, that was the general gist of the thing.

What Wonder Woman also mentioned was that both heroes needed to remain anonymous, and apparently, it was crucial for the bust being untraceable to the Justice League.

Which was why two of the world's greatest superheroes were currently crammed into a beat up Toyota Camry, careening at an average of fifty miles an hour towards a drug dealer hideout.

They were also both clad in civvies- well John was, Wally was wearing some kind of hybrid sweater-jumpsuit that was somehow both furry and slippery, like a wetsuit. To top it all off, it was bright red. Where in the seven levels of hell Flash had gotten the monstrosity was beyond him.

John gritted his teeth as he was thrown rather violently against a window. It was the third time.

Under normal circumstances, John would be controlling the vehicle. After all, the level-headed, much-less-volatile Green Lantern would be a better choice in comparison to a hyperactive speedster. Unfortunately, John was concentrating his ring on tracking down the drug smugglers whilst simultaneously keeping the luminous green light to a minimum. It was up to Wally to man the wheel.

"Red light," John warned sharply. Wally ran the car straight through it. John's breath hitched in his throat momentarily as he watched a motorcycle screech to a halt half a metre from their Camry's tail lights. The motorcyclist's disbelieving face flashed by before they were off at a steady sixty miles per hour again.

"What the hell are you doing?" John snapped, fingers itching to resist the incredibly tempting action of slapping the Flash upside the head. Such actions would probably lead them to crash head first into some old lady's backyard. "You could've killed the man!"

"_Someone's _a big ball of sunshine today," Wally commented flippantly. John's fingers itched a little more. "Besides, the slug was only going at forty miles an hour. Even this old thing-"-he tapped the steering wheel- "-could outrun it."

The car braked sharply, and John grasped at his seatbelt to avoid head butting through the windscreen.

It wasn't as if Wally was a bad driver. No, it was quite the opposite. Wally was a good driver, a _very _good driver. After all, not everyone could run a red light through a seven intersection busy highway without dog piling half the driving population of Metropolis. Heck, John thought the Flash deserved a medal in being able to accomplish such feats. He didn't even think Superman could pull them off, and this was the Man of god forsaken _Titanium _he was talking about.

To be fair, the Flash had only clipped seven mailboxes so far. That would be ninety three mailboxes less then what John had expected, and- wait, make that _eight _mail boxes.

The idiot even had the _gall _to cast an apologetic look back at the swearing middle-aged lady who had emerged from the house of the unfortunate mailbox. "Sorry, ma'am, I'll make it up to you, promise!" Not that she had heard the buffoon, she was rapidly fading into the distance.

"Eyes on the _road!_" John all but snarled, and Wally swerved wildly to avoid T-boning a truck loaded with metal rods. John spared a second to glance at Wally's foot on the gas. It was flat against the ground.

Doomed. They were doomed.

John hadn't expected- or wanted- to go out like this. Being caught in the explosion of a planet would be a suitable death for a member of the Green Lantern Corps, not through a driving mishap by an irresponsible idiot that against all odds, John called his _friend. Anything _would be better then this.

John consulted his ring again.

"Left. Bass Street." he growled. It was sad, really, how being in the same car as the Flash had rendered him to speak in monosyllabic words out of pure annoyance. For once, the speedster sensed the dangerous note in his words and wisely flipped on the indicator without a peep. He even slowed down a minor fraction.

Then he turned right.

John made a choked, gargled noise at the back of his throat.

Wally turned to him, a look of surprise and mild alarm written across his face. John felt like punching it. "Hey man. You okay?"

"I _explicitly," _John began, struggling to reign in his temper. Despite the infamous willpower of the Green Lantern Corps, it was a losing battle from the start. "-said _left." _

"Oh, you got all heated up over _that?_ I thought you swallowed your tongue or something since I was going too fast. Slowpoke."

For a moment, John's initial ring construct of a tracking green light transformed into gleaming chainsaw.

"And don't worry, GL, you look like you're gonna pop an artery or three. I know a shortcut."

That would've been more reassuring if Wally hadn't narrowly missed a blue convertible when he was saying it. John slumped down into his seat only to regret it moments later; he'd almost broke his own neck when they skidded around a particularly tight corner.

Sure enough, they were turning into Bass Street. Thank Oa for that. John almost wished that Wally had been wrong, just to wipe the silly, smug grin off the speedster's face.

"Over there," John said with much relief, shining a green light at a sleek Mercedes. Despite the outward appearance, John's ring told him that four hundred and seventy two pounds of marijuana and gunpowder were stashed safely inside. Soon this mission would be over, and then he could leave this buffoon and take a much deserved drink. A _long _drink.

Hopefully the kid wouldn't do anything more stupid between now and returning to the Watchtower.

John closed his eyes and massaged his forehead in aggravation as Wally pulled up alongside the Mercedes, winding down the window with super speed. Fortunately, the other driver didn't notice that.

"Heeeyy! Dude with the funny hat!"

"Are you _insane?" _John hissed dangerously into Wally's ear. If the moron sabotaged their mission…"Actually, don't answer that, I already know the answer. What part of _remaining anonymous _do you not understand?"

"Hey!" Wally looked at John, a slightly hurt and dejected look upon his face. John would've been more concerned and maybe even guilty if he hadn't been in danger of cardiac arrest through stress at the moment. "I know what I'm doing, man. Trust me."

_Trust _him? John was more willing to trust Lex Luthor as President of the Universe then this imbecile at the moment. …Maybe he had been exaggerating at the Lex Luthor part. But Wally was making it _damn _hard to trust him if he kept at this velocity on the slippery road at the moment.

"Dude!" Wally called out again. The opposing driver looked, horrified. at the worn-out Camry, weaving in and out of the busy traffic. "Mind telling us where you're headed?"

That was when John heard the groan.

It was a low groan, filled with all the pain and agony of carrying a few pounds too many. It was a groan made up of the burden of travelling at ninety miles per hour, which, if John had interpreted the creak of straining metal correctly, was ninety miles per hour too much.

The Green Lantern spared a millisecond casting his ring over their groaning Camry. For a moment, he felt his heart stop.

"Brakes. NOW!"

The speedster looked at John confusedly- no, don't look at him, look at the god damned brakes!- and slid his foot off the accelerator. Regardless of this, the car lurched forward, slipping and sliding over the slippery road.

It rear-ended the Mercedes.

John barely managed to catch sight of the Mercedes being propelled into the midst of a busy highway before an air bag caught him flush in the face.

Judging from the rapid vibrations and wild thrashings John felt next to him, he assumed that the same fate had awaited his partner. One of Flash's flailing arms caught John in the ear, and he irritably slapped away the offending limb along with the air bag. It seemed that the Flash had somehow managed to brake at the last possible second, thus saving both their lives from his own stupidity.

The Mercedes, however….

John stared disbelievingly at the once smooth and polished car, which was now skidding along the asphalt on its side towards a warm green Honda Jazz. If John squinted, he could just make out the little old lady with spectacles perched precariously over her nose looking with horror at the massive monster of a car sliding towards her.

He had to act fast.

Fisting his ring hand, John summoned a wayward pavement under the sidewards-skating vehicle, redirecting it wildly into the air. The Mercedes landed clumsily on its rear in a pile of unfortunate garbage bags. Even without utilising his ring, John could see that exactly four hundred and seventy two pounds worth of marijuana and gunpowder were now pouring out from the boot and backseat of the car, all over the garbage bags.

"That's one way of taking out the trash."

John groaned loudly- both at the voice and the _horrendous _pun- and looked around for a wall to bang his head _hard _against. It was difficult seeing as he was trapped underneath a persistent airbag and with the person he least wanted to be with at the moment.

The sirens were coming, a little late per usual. With any luck, the police would find an empty Camry which had lost control of its brakes and a drug ring busted out of pure, dumb luck. No Justice League interference whatsoever. Unless, of course, the police tracked down that said pure, dumb luck was only capable by the Flash.

John sighed and put his hand to his comm-link. "Lantern to Watchtower. Teleportation for two."

There was a pause, and John sighed again. He was looking forward to that drink. "Yeah, I'm taking the idiot with me."

**Keep this on your alerts if you're interested by the way. I might make this into a set of funny oneshots if the plot bunnies attack again. **

**Stick around, friends.**


	2. In the Ears of the Beholder

**Rating upped because of Ralph. Damn the guy. **

**Oh, and an update to tell you guys that I'm not completely dead. **

**Initially a humorous oneshot, with some mild seriousness if you squint. Still a humor oneshot though. **

**I must warn you, this is mildly cracky. **

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**Flash Bygones**

**..**

**In the Ears of the Beholder**

**...**

It wasn't possible.

It just _wasn__'__t_possible.

Wally scrubbed at his eyes frantically to make sure it wasn't all a dream. Then he scrubbed at them again. And again. Did he mention again?

No. No no no no _no._

This _couldn__'__t_be true. It had to be some sort of sick, disgusting joke. Any second now, Dick Grayson (the jerk. He still owed Wally fifty quadruple-deckered-ham-with-fries-and-chocolate-syrup-cheeseburgers from last week's drinking competition) would leap out from whatever hole he was hiding in, flick his carefully slicked hair back and smirk, telling Wally he'd just got 'punked'. Then, Wally would laugh outwardly while secretly planning the other's imminent doom involving some form of humiliation via tight leotards and frilly French maid outfits.

The seconds trickled by.

_Dammit. _

Anything was better than this. _Anything._God, Wally would rather shave his head _bald_and dress up as Luthor while surprise waking up _Superman_than accept the spectacle in front of him as real. Heck, he would rather_french-kiss__Clayface__'__s__assho_- okay, maybe not that, but that was the only exception.

But no. No nonono _no!_The image in front of Wally was the truth, and nothing but the truth. The image would remain burned into his retinas until his dying day, replaying over and over in his mind just like that time when he had walked in on Ralph the Elongated Man experimenting on _that_part of the male anatomy-

Wally quickly massaged his temples a couple hundred times at super speed to rid himself of the image. Dammit, he thought he had buried that memory far into the recesses of his mind, along with the one where Batman-

_Anyways. _

Wally took a step backward. Then another. With some mild trepidation, the scarlet speedster realised that his legs were vibrating almost out of his control- something that only happened whenever Wally felt something like _fear._

The blank eyes stared back at him.

_No._

...

A loud wail echoed throughout the Watchtower, emanating across the titanium hallways and into the cafeteria. It was no normal wail- no, it wasn't a I'm-gonna-kill-you wail, or even a Oh-my-GOD-you-got-my-daughter-pregnant wail, no, it was a heart-wrenching, stomach aching wail filled with all the trials and tribulations of several universes combined.

Superman spat out the apple pie that had made the unfortunate mistake of getting into his mouth. Simultaneously, a cup exploded inside Shayera's hand, showering said hand with boiling coffee and shards of china. This prompted several Thanagarian curse words that may or may not be threatening the life expectancy of a certain speedster, but Superman wasn't sure. Superman was _never_sure in matters concerning the Flash.

Several metas who were also inside the cafeteria looked up, alarmed, at the scream, and looked even more so at the reactions of two of the League's founders. Or maybe it was because Shayera had karate chopped two tables in half out of frustrated pain before flying off to run her hand under cold water. Either way, it was up to the Man of Steel to calm the confused metas before something worse happened.

Something worse happened.

That _something_came in the form of a scarlet blur, knocking Stargirl and the Atom to the ground, along with several trays of cutlery. Superman noticed with some disbelief that the food inside the cafeteria was now disappearing at a dramatic rate- and then something knocked into his chest.

"OhmygodSupes-" (munch munch) "-yougottahelpmeyouwon't_believe_whatjusthapppeenneed-"

Superman carefully detached the speedster's hands from his self, and cast a hopefully reassuring look around at the other metas. Then, internally sighing, he turned back to the hysterical red clad man, who was now finishing off an apple pie. What the-? Oh, never mind, he'll deal with his favourite snack later and the more pressing issues now. Issues involving one particular, sobbing speedster. "Flash, _slow__down._I need you to tell me- _slowly_- what the problem is."

"It better be important," growled an irate Shayera, who had just returned and was brandishing a slightly burnt fist at the speedster's head.

Flash zipped back a relatively safe distance away from the irritated Thanagarian. Superman supposed that the speedster wanted to keep his head mace-free at the moment. Flash took a deep breath. "Something _bad_happened. _Really_bad."

"Well, no shit," snapped Shayera. "I swear, if you'd tried to prank Batman again-"

"Flash," Superman interrupted, rubbing his forehead wearily. "What happened?"

Flash turned around and stared at the Man of Steel dead in the eye. Superman felt an unsettling feeling unfurl inside his stomach, something which only occurred when something truly bad was going to happen. With any luck, the League's resident speedster was simply blowing things _way_out of proportion as he usually did, and wasn't going to say anything stupid that would send the League into complete disarray.

Flash opened his mouth.

"Speedy is _dead._"

The cafeteria erupted into chaos.

...

Somewhere, deep within the Watchtower, Green Arrow felt a chill run up his spine. He released his arrow a moment too early and watched, with some mild confusion, as it thudded a centimetre off the bulls eye.

Black Canary, who was watching him, laughed unkindly.

Green Arrow had a feeling that this was going to be a very bad day.

...

Wally was confused. This wasn't exactly a new thing, seeing as Wally always got confused whenever John goes all military lingo on him or when Bats says more than four words to him. (Well, how could they expect him to actually understand what they were saying? For all he knew, they could be cursing at him in their own private language.) However, this was on a whole new level of confusion- past the J'onn-can-you-repeat-that confusion to there's-a-unicorn-in-my-room-and-I-don't-know-why confusion.

After all, why was Shayera dragging him by the scruff of the neck towards an empty broom closet? Normally, Wally would welcome this sort of activity by an attractive woman, but the current situation was anything but _normal._

"Um," Wally said nervously as Shayera single-handedly tossed him in before closing the door behind them. "Shayera...I don't know how to say this..."

"Spit it out," Shayera said. "What's this about Speedy being _dead?__" _

Wally noticed that her wings were twitching agitatedly- never a good sign. Regardless, he bravely ploughed on. "I kinda think of you as my sister... And I thought you had that thing with John...?"

Shayera stared at Wally for one long second. The speedster noticed with growing apprehension that her knuckles were whitening around her mace- also not a good sign.

"Sorry?" Wally tried. "Not to worry, I'm sure there's someone out there good for you, you're a pretty hot babe and all, and it's just that one of my best friends is _dead_and- whoa!"

The speedster barely managed to dodge the wild swing aimed at his left eyeball. The mace connected with a stack of carefully arranged brooms, snapping one and sending the rest tumbling miserably to the floor.

"I don't have time for this crap," snapped Shayera, palming her mace. "Superman is being mobbed by metas of all shapes and sizes in there-" She jerked her thumb towards the general direction of the cafeteria, where Superman's frantic attempts to placate the crowd could be heard- "-and according to you, _Speedy__is__dead._When? How?"

Right. Speedy was dead. One of his best friends- since _forever-_was dead. "I-I dunno when... But I think he died of blood loss."

"Blood loss?" Superman appeared, not unlike the crazed dude from that Texas Chain Saw Massacre movie that Wally had watched last Friday night. How did he find-? Oh, right. X-ray vision. Huh, maybe that superpower _was_useful in something besides seeing through clothing. It had nothing on superspeed of course, but that was beside the point.

"Yeah, blood loss." Wally nodded, and swallowed at the memory. "He was missing both legs when I found him in my room."

The three descended into a stifling silence.

"Well," said Superman grimly. "Hawkgirl and I will investigate the crime scene. Flash, I want you close off all possible exits from the Watchtower and locate Green Arrow- keep him as far away from the scene as possible. Do not, under any circumstances, tell him about what happened to Speedy."

"Green Arrow?" Wally asked, puzzled. "But-"

"Just do it, Flash," Shayera said. She had turned away but Wally heard the break in her voice.

And that was enough for him to speed away to close all the aircraft gates.

...

Green Arrow wiped the sweat away from his brow. He had nailed seven arrows, one after another, into the same bulls eye to save his dignity from a still giggling Black Canary. He scowled; it wasn't like she could do any better. Just because he had missed _one_due to some odd body spasm didn't mean he was less of a man.

Speaking of body spasms... he couldn't seem to shake the one he had gotten earlier. In fact, the unnerving feeling got exponentially stronger as a faint breeze blew past him.

Green Arrow nocked an eighth arrow, and sent it flying towards the riddled target.

Said arrow never reached said target. Instead, a scarlet speedster appeared in front of him rather suddenly, holding the quivering arrow in his hand.

"Hmm," sighed Black Canary. "I was hoping for another miss."

"Old buddy, old pal," said the Flash, clapping Green Arrow chummily on the shoulder, as if they were just the bestest of best friends. "How was your day?"

Green Arrow was no Batman, but he immediately suspected something amiss. Perhaps it was the fact that the Flash hadn't yet flirted with Black Canary within two seconds of seeing her that made the situation seem so strange. "It was fine," he said warily.

"Good, good," mumbled the Flash distractedly. "Black Canary, you're looking smokin' as always. Mind if I borrow Green Arrow for a second?"

"Don't mind me," said Black Canary sweetly, and Green Arrow internally groaned. Her tone suggested that she was curious, and nothing good ever came of a curious Canary, heroine or otherwise. "I'll just sit right over here and you can have your man-to-man talk."

"Er...Okay," Flash replied, turning back to Green Arrow. "So...What's up?"

"Is something wrong?" Green Arrow asked immediately.

"What? Oh no no no no!" Flash laughed a little more high pitchedly than usual. "Of course there's nothing wrong! Why would you think that there's something wrong? Unless there's something wrong to begin with- which there isn't- which would be why you think there's something wrong now. Totally nothing bad is happening at the Watchtower at the moment."

Now Green Arrow knew there was something _definitely_wrong. "I never mentioned anything about the Watchtower."

"Of course you didn't. I just wanted to say that the Watchtower is absolutely spiffing right now- don't you think so?"

Perhaps the red clad speedster had taken one too many knocks to the head on a prior mission. Really, that was the only conclusion the Green Arrow could think of that could cause the Flash to spew such utter nonsense.

It almost reminded him of how his ex-sidekick, Speedy, used to act whenever the kid got overly roughed up by Brick or some other rogue. Green Arrow remembered with a pang that his former ward didn't even go as Speedy anymore; he went with something along the lines of Red Arrow- an obvious rip off from his own name, of course. Either way, the boy would always remain Speedy in _his_mind.

Speaking of Speedy, Green Arrow hadn't heard from the kid for a while. Perhaps he should pay the boy- man, he corrected himself- a visit sometime soon.

...

"Watchtower to Red Arrow. Repeat, Watchtower to Red Arrow."

For the third time, Superman waited bleakly for an answer. For the third time, silence met him.

Both he and Shayera had rushed to the Flash's room moments after the Flash had zipped away. Superman had his X-ray vision turned on before they'd got there, which was why he had gotten confused a moment before Shayera.

The room had revealed nothing.

No body, nothing. Although Superman now knew where Flash's secret chocolate stash was.

There _was_, however, a smear of blood on the edge of one of Flash's many pillows. It wasn't exactly enough blood for a man to have died from blood loss, which was a relief, but there was still a considerable amount, which was a concern.

What was a greater concern was that there was now a murderer inside the Watchtower.

Superman tapped at his comm-link for the fourth time.

"Superman to J'onn. Repeat, Superman to J'onn..."

...

Screwed. He was screwed. And not in the good sense either.

"Ah, not the cafeteria!" Wally trilled, waving his hands frantically to block Green Arrow's path. A fat lot of good that did, seeing as Green Arrow simply slapped the limbs aside.

"Why the hell not?" Green Arrow snapped. "I'm usually hungry after training."

Oh boy oh boyo boy...

Wally still had no idea why Supes wouldn't want Green Arrow to hear about Speedy. Not that it mattered now, seeing as the big guy had ordered him to distract the man.

"Because-" _Think,__brain,__think._"-I just saw several metas throw up inside there." _Ah,__screw__it._"I think there's some sort of pandemic going around!"

"Oh really?" Green Arrow said sceptically.

"_Really,_" Wally emphasised. "Must be a really nasty bug as well. I think even Supes was hurling puke chunks- you know, just all over the place, even inside the food trays. I wouldn't try any of the bolognaise in the next week if I were you."

Miraculously, Green Arrow seemed to swallow the bluff. Wally blinked. He actually believed that crap? Man, he must be getting better at lying- or maybe it was the mental imagery of Supes' barf that stopped Green Arrow dead in his leather-clad tootsies. After all, for all Wally knew, Kryptonian puke was probably radioactive and semi-acidic or something.

Either way, Wally had succeeded in diverting the archer's attention away from the cafeteria. Now all he had to do was to lead him far, far away, and run back to find Speedy's murd-

"Did you hear about Speedy?" said a passing Supergirl to Stargirl. Loudly. "I heard that he's been _killed!_"

_Well, shit. _

_..._

"I can't get in contact with him."

Superman's heart sank at J'onn's grim announcement. Shayera, who had been unusually silent until now, slammed her hand down onto the monitor.

"Try again, dammit!"

"Shayera..." Superman began, before he was interrupted by a sudden breeze and a panting speedster.

"Supes!" Flash said hurriedly. "Green Arrow's going to-"

"Where's Speedy?" Green Arrow demanded. The door to the Monitor Room swished shut behind him.

Superman noticed that the archer's hand was clenching tightly around his bow. Clenching and unclenching. On and off. "Green Ar- Ollie," the Man of Steel said hesitantly. "I don't know any better way to say this...but Red Arrow's...gone."

"Gone?" Green Arrow said gruffly. "Impossible. The boy's too stubborn to be dead."

"_Who__'__s_dead?" A very familiar voice came from behind them.

Several pairs of meta eyeballs slowly swivelled around to stare at the newcomer.

Stepping out of the transporter, brushing water logged hair out of his eyes and looking slightly harried, was a very much alive Red Arrow.

..

"I don't see what the big deal is," said Wally truthfully, since really, there was nothing exactly mind-blowing about Roy being alive. What, were the other metas secretly wishing for the younger archer's death or something? "Red Arrow's not dead. No biggie."

"I was _dead?_" asked Roy incredulously. "Since when?"

"Since two seconds ago," said Shayera.

There was a long silence, a rather stretched one, in Wally's opinion. Then, Roy turned to the speedster. "Do I want to know? "

"No," said Superman. Weird, why did the Man of Steel's voice sound so tired? Huh, maybe the guy didn't get any Up-and-Go drinks this morning. Unsurprising, since Wally himself had drank ninety percent of it in the breakfast buffet. "Why didn't you answer your comm-link?"

"I was in the middle of a mission twenty leagues under the sea," Roy replied. "It's a little difficult answering when you're being chased by chemically enhanced octopi."

Wally firmly agreed with that. He had first-hand experience in that after all. One had to be more then speedy to get away from that sort of situation.

Speaking of Speedy... "I think we're missing the big picture here, "said Wally loudly. Those blank staring eyes...that gaping mouth... "Speedy is still _dead!__" _

"What are you talking about?" Green Arrow asked. "He's right here!"

"Where?" Wally swivelled his head, north, east, south, we- "Oh, my god!"

Wally heroically leapt into action, super speeding over to the far west corner of the Monitor Room. The other metas followed rather tentatively- Wally briefly overheard Shayera muttering something about insanity being contagious. He might've been offended at that comment, but the current situation was too dire.

It was too late.

The speedster watched in morbid horror as a pink tail disappeared down the kitten's throat.

"_Speeeeddddyyy!__" _

The anguished scream echoed throughout the Monitor Room.

..

After leading the Justice League of America for the past many years and thus having countered many alien invasions, Superman thought that he had seen it all. But now, no thanks to one scarlet speedster, Superman now realised that there was still many things left unseen that he really, _really,_didn't want to know about.

After all, it wasn't everyday that one sees the Fastest Man Alive cry out in utter devastation at seeing a kitten finishing its lunch.

"Um," Superman said. There were really no other words for the situation.

"There's Speedy's _murderer!_" Flash cried out wildly. Within half a millisecond, the kitten appeared, purring, in the Flash's arms. "I got him!"

"Um," Superman repeated.

Thankfully, Shayera found her tongue first. "What the hell, Flash? I thought you said Speedy was dead!"

"He is!" Flash said, and then with a dawning comprehension. "Wait...You guys seriously didn't think I meant the _archer_Speedy, did you?"

Several blank stares centred on the speedster.

"Are you kidding me? Doesn't he go by Red Arrow or some other unoriginal alias now?"

"Hey!" snapped an irritated Red Arrow. "Don't call _me_unoriginal, Mister Former _Kid_Flash!"

"Speedy?" Flash tried again. Superman began to feel a migraine the size of Krypton descending upon his skull. "Speedy Gonzales? My pet rat?"

..

Wally scowled down at the murderer on his lap. The murderer purred and rubbed his head against his leg.

He would've thought that the other League members would've been a little more sympathetic to his plight, he had just lost a beloved pet after all. Granted, Speedy had been old, going onto his sixth year, but that so wasn't the point. The point was that they had all watched Speedy getting brutalised in front of them by a furry demon spawn of doom. Shouldn't he at least get some words of consolation? A pat on the back?

But _no._Shayera simply just _had_to yell at him about something he'd already forgotten, and both Green Arrow and J'onn _had_to give him a lecture on linguistics and what not. Even Roy had snarked something about naming things after him- it wasn't as if Wally had intentionally named the poor little fella after Roy, what kind of misleading name was _Speedy_for an archer anyway- and the so-called Big Blue Boy Scout had just walked away, muttering something about a migraine.

Some friends.

Wally absently reached down to stroke his feline foe- how did he even get into the Watchtower to begin with? Didn't Batman design the place to be everything-proof besides those pure of heart?- just to realise that said kitty of death was missing.

The speedster looked around his room confusedly. The devil couldn't have gone far, those legs were far too short to have reached anywhere decent. Nope, not under the pillowcase. Nah, not behind the fake mistletoe he had prepared for certain situations-

Wally choked on his tongue.

There, lying limply on the floor lay the tattered remains of his pet bird, Robin.

..

**Ohohohoho. Batman may not respond too well at hearing about how "Robin" had died. Ohohohoho.**

**Anywho, leave a REVIEW. Food for the author. Really, I'm a little sad that no one bothered to tell me that I'd misspelt "ear" as "rear". I mean, that's a MASSIVE difference. (I touched my rear. I touched my ear. See?) And I'll like to hear feedback. For all I know, my writing must suck and you all hate me. **

**Even if it's something like, "OM^&*^GG, UUU SUUUCKK!1111" At least then, I'll know. **


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